Into the Pensieve
by MaraudersMagic93
Summary: Flashbacks, memories, and inner thoughts of HP characters. Mostly Snape, but some Harry, Ron, and Neville too. Harry Potter and all related names and characters are property of JKR, not me. Please read and review! Thanks!
1. An Introduction

Albus Dumbledore looked around his office as he waited. Fawkes slept silently on his perch, occasionally snorting out plumes of smoke. His red and gold feathers sparkled in the afternoon sunlight that poured in from the window overlooking the Quidditch pitch. The Gryffindor team was practicing. Dumbledore smiled as the snitch flew by the window, with Harry in pursuit. His thoughts were soon interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. "Please come in," said the headmaster.

A somewhat out of breath Snape entered and closed the door behind him. "I apologize for my lateness, Headmaster. I can explain," he said, brushing a few strands of greasy black hair out of his eyes. "It's quite alright, Severus," Dumbledore began calmly. "You may sit down." "Thank you, Headmaster," said Snape. "What did you want to see me for?" "Ah, yes, Severus. That's just what I was going to tell you," Dumbledore replied, placing what appeared to be a silver bowl onto his desk. "Go ahead, Severus, you may look into it," Dumbledore said, noticing the hint of curiosity in Snape's eyes. The latter obliged, an expression of slight embarrassment on his pale face. "But be careful not to lean to close," Dumbledore warned. Snape gazed down into the pool of blue and silver swirls. "What….what is it?" he asked in awe. "This is the Pensieve," Dumbledore said. He put the tip of his wand to his head, and pulled out a silvery glowing strand. "I," he started, "have found it quite helpful throughout the years, in keeping my memories." "That's what that was?" Snape asked, with an almost childish sense of amazement. "Yes, Severus. I just extracted a memory," replied the headmaster as he dipped his wand into the Pensieve, releasing the memory into the swirling silver pool. "Many memories, some good, some not, are in the Pensieve right now." "But," Snape began cautiously, "Where do I come into this?" "I had a feeling you would ask me that, Severus," Dumbledore started. "I am giving you permission to use the Pensieve as you wish. It will always be in my office. You may find that it will help you." "But, why, Headmaster?" Snape asked. "I think you can answer that for yourself," sad Dumbledore. Snape stared into the headmaster's blue eyes, searching for some kind of answer, but none came. Dumbledore stood up, and said, "Now, Severus, shall we head down to lunch?" as he put away the Pensieve. "Yes, Headmaster," said Snape. Dumbledore quickened his pace as he exited. "Professor," Snape began, "Why are you in such a rush?" "Ah, Severus, you and your questions," said Dumbledore. "Let us hasten, for we don't want dear Minerva eating all of our treacle tart, now do we?" "Hilarious, Professor," replied Snape, clearly not amused. Dumbledore just smiled as the two walked to the Great Hall in silence.


	2. Happy Birthday, Sev

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Hogwarts, and all related names and characters belong to JK Rowling.

Severus Snape paced around his cold stone office, just thinking. There had to be some reason Dumbledore offered him the Pensieve. His footsteps echoed, making the already dismal environment even worse. A few candles glowed faintly and seemed to cast shadows instead of light in the damp room. The only window was boarded up. There was nothing to see in a dungeon anyway. Snape walked over to his desk, and sat down in the antiquated chair. The headmaster would be gone for another few days on Ministry business, and things _were_ becoming a bit tense around the castle as the students were continually rushing around studying or heading off to the Quidditch pitch for practices. '_Maybe_,' he thought, _'I'll just go to Dumbledore's office and see what the Pensieve can do. If the Headmaster trusts it, then it shouldn't do me any harm.'_ And with that, he set off towards the headmaster's office, black robes trailing behind him.

Snape recited the password, and cautiously entered the room. It felt so…different without Dumbledore inside. Fawkes was snoozing on his perch, but awoke when Snape entered the room. The phoenix glanced at Snape, and then and lowered his head in disappointment that Dumbledore hadn't returned yet. Snape took a few more steps toward the headmaster's desk, and Fawkes resumed his nap. Sitting in Dumbledore's chair, Snape felt almost as though he was intruding, yet he also felt a longing to one day have this office as his own. It was filled with portraits and magical objects, and most importantly, light. Spending the majority of one's time in a dungeon for nearly twenty years gave the potions master his pale, cold complexion, devoid of any warmth or brightness.

But it wasn't just the dungeons that had made him this way. Oh, no, it was more than that. His eyes, his heart, were still cold and dark. Snape took out the Pensieve, and wand tip to his head, closed his eyes and hoped for the best. Suddenly, he was immersed in silvery blue swirls of memory, faces of the Marauders, Lily, Dumbledore, and the Potter boy flashed through his mind. It was all swirling faster and faster, but then, someone knocked on the door.

Hastily putting the Pensieve aside, Snape got up and answered the door. He was somewhat startled to find Harry Potter and Ron Weasley standing there. "Um, Professor, we've come for our detention," Harry began. "Your detention," Snape started, "was _supposed _to be in the _dungeons_". "This," he said, gesturing towards the window, "is the headmaster's office, and in fact, nowhere near my office. Perhaps you two have taken a wrong staircase?" he asked coldly. "We know, Professor," Harry said. "We went to your office and you weren't there, and we, um, well, decided to look for you," said Ron. "I mean, we waited for about fifteen minutes or so, but then we thought that you weren't going to show up." "And how," Snape asked, "did you know that I would be here?" "Oh, we, um," Ron began, "Asked McGonagall. Yeah. We asked her," Harry added quickly, hiding a piece of parchment behind his back. "Potter," Snape said, "Hand me that parchment". Harry hesitated. "_Now_, please," said Snape. "Fine," said Harry as he handed it over. "It's blank, see? Can we have it back now?" Ron said. "I shall be keeping it then," said Snape. "You two have no need for any parchment, seeing as you do not do your homework in the first place," he finished, glaring at the two. "Now," Snape started, "Mr. Filch is waiting for you in the trophy room. I believe you know what to do," he said. "But, Professor!" Harry interjected, "There's Quidditch practice tomorrow morning, and these trophies will take all night!" "Not if you work quickly, they won't. No magic will be used," said Snape, tossing them each a towel. "Have fun, boys," he said smugly.

Locking the door once the boys left, Snape took out the Pensieve again. He looked into the swirling pool, his long nose nearly reaching the memories inside. He was mesmerized; amazed that so many thoughts could fit into such a small space. He leaned forward, closer and closer until he was back in his sixth year….

He saw a younger version of himself trying to cram all of his belongings back into the schoolbag that James and Sirius had made him spill while they were showing off the Levicorpus spell. Lily was yelling at the two boys, and telling them to apologize to Snape. "You two have no right to pick on Sev just because he's a Slytherin and he happens to be near you! The things you do to him are just awful, Potter. You know what? I'm not gonna stand for it anymore. That's why I'm going with him to Hogsmeade this weekend, right, Sev?" "You are?" Snape saw himself ask. "Oh, um, I mean, yeah, of course you are," he said, looking up from the pile of books and quills. "So don't even think about it, okay, Potter?" "Evans, really. Listen. This kid practically _breathes_ Voldemort and you pick him over me? I don't get you, Lily! Honestly, I just don't!" he exclaimed. "I can see that," Lily said. "That's why Sev is so great. He understands me so well," she said, smiling. She kneeled down and helped him put everything back into his bag. "Lily, thanks," said the younger Snape. "You really didn't have to do that. I'm pretty used to it by now," he said.

And he _was_ used to it. He was ridiculed by practically everyone in the school. Whether it was his nose, or his hair, or that he was in Slytherin, people always found some reason to mock him. Even his fellow Slytherins made fun of him because he was a half blood, and because he hung out with Lily Evans. His lack of Quidditch skills were also used as an insult. But nobody in Hogwarts, not even Lily, could truly understand how much this hurt him. Did they think he _liked_ having to be the referee every Quidditch match and watch Potter zoom around to victory and be the hero every time? Did they think he was pale and greasy on purpose? And then, on top of that, add in the Marauders, who were always finding some way to make his life hell. Snape remembered these feelings all too well, and was filled with pain at seeing his younger, angsty and tormented self. But he decided to keep watching. He needed to see Lily again, to be close to her.

Now they were in Hogsmeade, Lily and Severus walking together. It was January, and Severus' nose and cheeks were a slightly pink, partly from the cold, and partly from holding hands with Lily. This was exactly what he'd always dreamed of, but somehow, it didn't feel right. "Lily," he said, "I need you to tell me something, honestly." "Sure, Sev. What is it?" she replied. "Do you really want to be here with me, or are you just doing this to make Potter jealous?" he asked. "Severus Snape, of course I want to be here with you! Why else would we be walking around in the freezing cold just enjoying each other's company when we could be studying for exams?" she exclaimed. "Come on, follow me," she said, grabbing his hand again. Snape had to jog to keep up with Lily as she ran over towards a small clearing, full of trees. They were cold, snow-covered, and lifeless, but beautiful nonetheless. Somehow, being near trees was always comforting for the two of them. "Wow, Lily," Severus began. "This place is so…perfect." "I'm glad you like it," she said, giving him a hug. "Happy birthday, Sev." They stood there for a while, just taking in the winter scenery around them, and appreciating each other's company. Lily brushed Severus' greasy hair out of his cold, blue-gray eyes. Today, those eyes were warm and smiling. Snape felt a surge of happiness rush through him at being this close to Lily.

But the memory ended all too soon, and he was back as his present self, sitting in Dumbledore's office, realizing that he would be spending this birthday alone.


	3. Neville Opens Up

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related names and characters belong to JKR, not me.

"Glad that's over," Ron said to Harry. "I know. Any more of these bloody detentions and I'll be off the Quidditch team," Harry said angrily. "They won't do that, mate. You're the best seeker we've got," said Ron, trying to reassure him. "Yeah, until your sister showed up," Harry scoffed. "So _that's_ why you won't talk to her? Jealous, are you?" Ron said somewhat jokingly. "She fancies you, you know." "Yeah, I know, Ron," said Harry, clearly not amused. "It's just a game, Harry. Don't get so worked up about it." "Maybe for you it's just a game. But my _dad_ played! My dad, Ron! It's something he did, and I…I just…" "Want to feel like he did, right?" asked Neville, seemingly from out of nowhere.

Harry and Ron turned to face their friend. "Blimey, Neville! Where'd you come from?" Ron asked, a bit startled. "Well, Ron," Harry started, "When a mum and a dad love each other very much…" "Yeah, I know. Very funny, Harry," said Ron. "Did you hear the whole conversation?" Harry asked. "The last part," Neville said. "Oh. Well, don't worry, Ginny's all yours," said Harry. "But what you said about my dad..." he started. "Yeah?" Neville asked. "And wanting to feel like he did and stuff…well, that was right," he finished. "It's just…hard, you know? Not having them there and stuff," said Neville. Ron had backed off a little, knowing that it wasn't his place to say anything here. "It is. It's really hard," Harry agreed. "At least your parents are watching over you, and they know who you are, and they can be proud of you," said Neville bitterly. "I'm sorry--" Harry started. "And you don't have an overprotective Gran breathing down your neck every five seconds, trying to control your life. My parents don't know who I am, Harry! I don't even think they know who _they_ are! And it's all that Lestrange woman's fault! You don't know how bad I wanna…" "Neville," said Ron, "Bellatrix is evil, and she deserves to die, and I don't want to just change the subject after you've poured your soul out, but it's after midnight, don't you think we should go back to bed?" "Not now, Ron," said Harry and Neville together. "Okay then. See you two in the morning," said Ron as he headed up towards the boys' dormitory. "'Night, Ron," Harry and Neville said.

The fire in the common room was flickering out, casting shadows around the room. "I…I didn't mean to butt in, and then to just let everything out onto you," Neville apologized. "No, don't worry about it. It's fine. Happens to me all the time—unintentionally letting things out on my friends, I mean," Harry said. "If you ever wanna, you know, just talk for awhile, you know where to find me." "Thanks, Harry. Gran will be so glad I've got friends like you. You know what? Forget Gran. _I'm _glad I've got friends like you." "That's the spirit, Neville. But really, it is late, and if we're done with the whole pouring out our feelings thing, we _should_ go to bed," said Harry. "Yeah," Neville said.

They walked up the stairs to the dormitory and changed into their pajamas. They said a quick "Goodnight", each boy glancing at Ron, then drawing the scarlet curtains around his own bed.


End file.
